


so pure, dirty and raw

by styles_allure



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Birthday, Birthday Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Harry, Fucking, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, It's slightly rough, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Romantic Fluff, Sex Tape, Smut, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-17 17:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5879425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/styles_allure/pseuds/styles_allure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's February 1st, and the day belongs to Harry, he's the birthday boy. So, a sex tape is about to ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so pure, dirty and raw

**Author's Note:**

> a larry birthday sex fic was inevitable, we all know it. this turned out to be a lot longer than i planned, but ALAS, the words flow and i simply cannot stop the process. hope everyone's February starts off as good as Harry's!

It’s been years, filled with stares that held unspoken paragraphs only he could read. The swipe of a hand, the gentle brushing that raised bumps and chills down a rigid spine, a breathless contact, the simplistic yet chastened phrases boring into the pit of his heart. And a love that’s never been more obvious and obscure simultaneously, one that only Harry and Louis could feel, though it radiated between them with a strength so intense they could feel it all the way to their bones. It was the hushed and hidden movements that made everything so special to Louis, the way Harry’s body moved and what each thing meant, the way his eyes formed words and the way his smile could distinguish his exact emotions. Louis knew Harry on a deeper level than he knew anyone, including his family. He read him like an open book, each chapter delving inward, understanding the way each thought connected through his synapses, dissecting him steady and cautious, everything that made him _Harry._

And he was so in love it was almost painful. 

Harry is his entire world and then some, he means everything. His happiness is held in high regard, and when Harry is off, so is Louis. His eyes follow Harry’s steps, sheltering him in an unseen barrier, refusing to let anything hurt him and if it was even attempted, Louis was going to take the full blow. As long as he was around, he would insure that Harry was able to be himself without fear, encouraging him the entire way, complimenting, ushering him forward with a sure confidence that everyone would love him. But no one would ever love him as much as Louis does, it was just that simple. And today is Harry’s birthday, so Louis’ going to show him just how special he is. Harry had caught on, his iris’ darkening and his lips twisting. His hips moved more fluidly, agonizing torture and mouth watering temptation. 

It was every year on the same day that Louis would go in full throttle, making it perfect. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t meaningless and hard, it wasn’t just fucking the breath out of him. On this day, it was purely _making love_ to Harry, treating him and his body like porcelain. Every touch would mean something, communicating through the tips of his fingers, and focusing on each and every whimper and moan, intensifying it completely, squeezing every drop of pleasure out of him until his body went limp. It’s Harry’s favorite day of the year. 

And Harry has always wanted to have the memory at hand, may that come in the form of a video tape. Louis wasn’t exactly fond of the idea, because shit gets leaked all the time and Harry’s body is for his eyes only, he’s a bit overly protective in that sense. But, today is Harry’s special day, and Louis is going to accommodate his every need and want, so he sucks up his pride and sets up the tripod in the corner of the room, lens facing the pretty bed, white satin sheets draped delicately over the mattress. 

The room is set, candles lit in Harry’s favorite aroma, casting the room in a quaint and intimate glow. The only sound is the flickering from the flame, Louis’ hands twisting together and the air leaving his lungs in steady, controlled intervals. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, white cotton robe laid gently over his lap, eyes set dead on the door, waiting for Harry to come through. The lock clicks, echoing and bouncing off the walls as the key retracts, the handle turning and Louis’ stomach mimicking it, twisting wildly with enthusiasm, excitement, he’s sweating desire and eagerness. The perfect mixture of love and lust is sprinkled in the way his hands are gripping the satin fabric of the bed sheets, his heart pounding in his ears, and then Harry comes into view. 

He looks ready, his vision bouncing from the candles to the bed, finally locking on Louis’ eyes. The camera is more than obvious, and Harry’s shit at hiding his excitement, practically beaming. He’s beautiful as always, hair cascading in loose curls down to his shoulders, the normal green of his iris muted by his blown pupils, the curves of his body long and delicious, a puzzle piece for Louis’ hands. The flames of the candle light his skin in a smooth, superb serenity, exaggerating his cheekbones, the soft curve of his angelic lips, the pitch black of his tattoos contrasting the silky skin of his arm. Every inch of him is screaming sex and when Louis finally speaks, his voice is so low it’s almost inaudible, laced with relentless want, unashamed need to touch him, to feel him. 

“Happy birthday, baby.” Louis stands, walking towards Harry in a slow pace, holding out the robe. “Put this on, nothing else, then come back in, okay?” 

Harry just nods, blinking a few times before grabbing the robe. He stands there for a couple seconds, Louis knows it’s because he’s waiting for a kiss. But once their lips connect, its game over, and Louis wants this to be drawn out, perfect, timeless. Once Harry accepts the lack of immediate affection he goes directly for the restroom, and the rush of clothing being ripped off in a haste causes a silent giggle to slip from Louis’ throat. He’s so eager and impatient, aways gets like this when he knows what’s about to happen. He’s about to be seductively praised, pleasured, treated like royalty and he’s about to feel things so deep he didn’t know it was even possible. So his rush is understood and justified, and when the door swings open, his eyes are frantic, his mouth thrown into a wide smile, his body shifting under Louis’ gaze. He’s leaking sensuality. 

He presses the button, _record,_ watching the small red light pop on. 

The white robe is hanging from Harry's body, too big for his slender frame, sliding down his shoulder to reveal enticing collar bones, Louis wants to run his tongue along the skin there, he knows it makes Harry shudder, makes him tense. 

“Come, sit down.” Louis’ stare is glued to Harry as he obediently complies, his steps are wide, his smile doesn’t falter, “I’m about to make you feel _so_ good baby, how does that sound?” 

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my entire life, Louis.” Harry’s voice is smooth and thick, flowing with the consistency of melted caramel and a weighted fervor. It’s saturated with the most intense lust, and he’s so turned on that just the feeling of Louis’ hand on his shoulder is enough to make him whine. 

Louis’ climbing onto the bed behind where Harry is perched on the edge, leaning his weight on his knees, spread out to incase Harry between them. His hands go to Harry shoulders, one connecting with the soft cotton fabric of the robe, the other against heated, responsive skin. He massages, thumbs rubbing deep, the vibrations traveling to Louis’ core with Harry’s purrs of pleasure. His head lolls to the side, neck going weak as Louis leans down to press his hot lips against the area where his neck meets his shoulder. It’s a simple, gentle kiss, but Harry immediately tenses, rolling his body back into Louis’ desperate for more contact. Louis keeps going with his assault, peppering kisses up towards Harry’s jaw line, his breathing so rough that his back is pressing into Louis’ chest with so much pressure Louis’ body is rising and falling with each inhale. 

Louis disconnects his lips, moving them to Harry's ear, the words coming out as a whisper, sending Harry’s entirety into a whir, “Patience,” He breathes, wrapping his hands around Harry’s waist, pulling him in as close as he can possibly be, Harry’s hands going straight to his, placed right on top to hold them in place, “It only get’s better from here.” 

Harry lets out a shaky pant, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks, a deep swallow his only response. Louis places a kiss just on the corners of Harry’s mouth before standing, his body going cold with the lack of contact. He goes to stand in front of Harry, jerking open his legs before dropping to his knees. Harry scoots to the edge of the bed, his fingers digging into the sheets, directly over the impressions Louis left just prior. Louis’ fingers work quickly to untie the rope around Harry, opening the robe to expose Harry’s throbbing erection, it’s so hard it looks painful. His lips are already aching with the desire to wrap around him, but he’s not getting off that easily. Instead, he clenches his hand around the base, sprinkling kisses onto Harry’s stomach, down his hips, which are swiveling with the desperate need for friction, rubbing the inside of Louis’ fist. There’s nothing thats hotter than feeling Harry grinding against anything he can feel, so fucking needy, his whole body shaking and trembling. 

After a few more teasing kisses, Louis decides he’s had enough torture, bringing his lips to the tip of Harry’s cock, giving once last kiss right on top of the hole, before licking a bold stripe up his length, and Harry’s slowly losing it. As soon as Louis wraps his lips around the head, Harry lets out a loud, strangled moan, clenching his stomach to prevent himself from bucking up. Louis hallows his cheeks, sucking in and dipping down till there’s nothing left to take in. The tip hits the back of his throat, Louis holding his thumb in his fist to prevent himself from gagging. Coming back up, he sucks harder, pulling every molecule to the surface, his tongue swirling and massaging. The next time he dips its quick, bobbing back up for another in the same second. His eyes are watering like crazy, and a gag is shoving it’s way up, but the sound of Harry moaning above him makes it absolutely worth it. His hand goes to Harry’s balls, in a gentle rub, working them at the same tempo of his mouth. His skin is pulled tight, veins giving away his rapid and drumming heartbeat, it fills Louis’ ears and matches his own. 

As hard as he’s trying, Harry can’t stop his hips from lifting, deepening himself in Louis’ throat, his hips are moving in a determined manor, so hard that Louis can’t surpass the gag, tears sliding down his cheeks, wetting his lashes. Harry ceases on cue, “Are you okay?” 

Louis nods, shaking it off and taking Harry in again, bobbing a few more times. He knows Harry is already so close, his toes are starting to curl, his hands wound tightly into the roots of Louis’ hair, so its time to stop. 

Harry whimpers when Louis pops his lips off, but it doesn’t last long, their lips connecting before he can say a word. The kiss starts off delicate, then it gets hot and rough, their breaths swirling together between them, each moan sliding down the other's throat. Its deep, its full of emotion and words aren’t necessary anymore, they're speaking in tongues. Fingers running over flaming skin, sizzling and nails digging in, leaving behind angry red marks and neither of them object. Their teeth are hitting together in the sloppy movement, bodies pushed close, both of them grinding, feeding into the temptation, it’s rabid and wild. Blood is pumping through his veins ferociously, his covered cock pressing against Harry’s and each grind is making his voice slip out, muffled and light. The heat is stagnant all around them, enveloping them in the swelling ambiance but his mind is disconnected, solely focused on Harry’s lips. The lips that drive him insane, with every smile. The lips that make his heart race when they meld around the words, _’I love you.’_

And tingles explode over every square inch of his skin, because directly in front if him is his baby, the love of his life, the source of his happiness and the reason he wakes up and goes to bed with a smile on his face. 

He breaks the kiss, pushing his hands against Harry's chest to lay him back, motioning for him to scoot up the bed so that his legs are stretched over the mattress. Louis takes the time to remove any clothing he has on, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He climbs onto Harry, sitting with his legs on either side of his hips. His body is etched with the utmost perfection. Every muscle, every freckle, every indent in his skin is another piece of him that completes the work of art. His head is laid back, chocolate brown hair fanned out around his face. He’s gleaming, his smile so bright it overpowers the sun and any other light source. Louis can see every memory in those jade green eyes, he sees the laughs, their first date, the kiss that cemented the relationship. He can see the purest form of Harry there is, openly exposed and raw, trusting. He loves him so much his heart could burst. 

Harry doesn’t know how special he is, how all of his words are permanently placed in the confines of Louis’ mind. He lays here, hands rubbing up and down Louis’ arm, smiling with his eyes locked on the bright blue ones staring down at him. He’s so precious, so angelic, he is everything. Louis runs his hands over Harry’s stomach, finger tips gentle. Its like the camera isn’t there, it’s just the two of them in their own private bliss, it’s just them. 

“I hope you know how much you mean to me, Harry.” Louis leans down, pressing his lips to Harry’s so soft, his words against Harry’s mouth, echoing down his throat, “My love, my life, my whole universe is in your embrace, you have me, I’m yours.” 

Harry’s hand goes to twist into Louis’ hair, holding him in place as he whispers out his simple words, enough to light Louis in a burning fire, his body spiraling into a perceptual blaze, “ _Show me._ ”

And then Louis' lips are rushed against Harry’s, just for a second before he leans away long enough the grab the bottle of lube from the night stand, feverishly popping open the lid and squeezing a considerable amount onto his fingers. Harry takes in a huge breath when Louis teases around the entrance, easing one finger inside. Harry runs his nails down Louis' back, gently, not leaving behind any marks just yet. He pushes a second finger in, scissoring them to work the muscle loose, getting Harry ready because any ounce of patience was ripped away with those two words. With each whimper sliding out of Harry, Louis can feel his muscles contract, tensing, reacting to him in a way only Harry can make him do. His touch has memorized Harry’s body in every sense of the word. He knows all the spots that make him giggle, moan, squirm and tremble. He’s using it all to his advantage, igniting them both and by the time Louis has inserted a third finger, both of them are dripping sweat, the sheets below them saturated and slippery. 

Louis eases his way in, keeping a steady eye on Harry’s face, slowing when he shows any sign of discomfort. It takes another application of lube before Louis can successfully bottom out without any painful stretching, but he’s always willing to take more time if it insures Harry won’t feel anything but pleasure.

He moves his hips, swiveling them in and out, watching the way Harry’s body is sliding up the bed with each thrust, the the way Harry’s eyes roll back, hands clenched, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Louis speeds up, and Harry’s moans are ricocheting off the walls, his arms flying up so he can grab hold of the prongs on the headboard, the springs squeaking. Before he knows it, his body is moving so fast and hard that it’s knocking the air from Harry’s lungs. And he meant to make this loving and gentle, but Harry wanted it rough, and he gets what he wants. The room is howling with Harry’s moans of euphoria, syllables digging their way into Louis’ muscles and forcing him harder, deeper, rigorous. 

Harry glances over to the camera, eyes connecting with the lens before he shows off a breathy smile, shyly hiding his face behind his forearm for just a second, only putting his hand back on the headboard when he’s looked away from the little device. The whole thing was absolutely adorable and he knows what it will drive Louis mad when he watches it, seeing Harry look over while Louis fucks him, he’s tingling just thinking about it. 

“You fuck me so g-good.” Harry whimpers, his last word slightly cut off by the pound of Louis’ hips against his. The sound of skin slapping against skin makes it hard to hear his voice, which is strangled and rasped. 

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah.” He replies breathlessly, repeating _yeah_ , each time getting lighter and more airy, his voice going so high it’s probably reached its peak. 

“I want-“ Harry starts, breaking off with more moans, flinging his arm over his face again. 

Louis removes it, pinning his arms to his sides, loving the full view of Harry’s sweating face, “Say it, what do you want?” 

“Roll me over,” Harry pants, squeezing his eyes shut before popping them open again, looking into Louis’ eyes, “Fuck me that way.”

“Why?” Louis teases, already knowing the answer. 

Harry blows out a breath, causing his lips to pout out, “Reaches my… my spot, you know what I mean.” It’s funny how Harry is still embarrassed by some aspects of his body and what he likes, especially when he knows that Louis find him stunning no matter what. Every quirk and noise is still sexy and accepted, the parts of Harry that he feels ashamed of, Louis showcases, making him feel more confident than ever. 

Louis leans down, their faces only inches apart, breath hard as it fans over his cheeks, making the wet skin tingle. “How bad do you want it?” 

“Bad, so bad. P-Please.” 

“I won’t make you beg,” Louis smiles, grabbing hold of Harry’s hip, “Because you’re the birthday boy, okay baby?” 

Harry nods, a startled gasp as Louis immediately flips him over, pulling himself out right before. Harry’s chest slams against the bed, causing it the thunk loudly against the wall. Louis pulls his hips, his ass in the air, ushering his knees to give him a wider stance. With Harry’s ass eye level now, Louis’ mouth is watering and unable to suppress the urge, bringing his lips to the puckered hole, dripping and stretched. He kisses around, slurping sounds filling the room only matched with a pleasured _ah_ from Harry. His tongue pushes in, swirling around as his hands wrap around Harry’s thighs, nails digging into the skin. Harry’s hand shoots to his cock, rubbing up and down in rough pumps. Which, oh no, is not happening. Louis grabs his wrist, slamming it against the mattress with a growl, pinning it there. “No touching.” 

“Please?”

“ _No._ ” 

Harry gives up with a childish huff, Louis pressing his tongue back in. The taste of Harry is familiar on his lips, he could have it all day long. He can picture Harry’s face, cheek smushed onto the satin sheets, eyes lightly closed in pure ecstasy. The image is as beautiful as it is fucking hot. Louis sprinkles more kisses on the skin surrounding the soaked hole, all the way up his spine before running his tongue up the back of Harry’s neck. His skin tastes like bliss and salty sweat. He connects his lips to the skin beneath Harry’s ear once more before leaning up, pressing his cock back in, and Harry’s eagerness shines through when he leans back, pushing Louis in deeper. It slides in easily this time, and Louis has a hand on Harry’s hip, and one in his hair, pinning his head down. His thrusts are rough and quick, earning a loud, breathy moan, Harry doesn’t dare move his hand, gripping the sheets instead. 

He’s going to come quick in this position, and as soon as Louis repositions he’s hitting the spot. Harry’s wailing now, mouth wide open against the bed, unabashed curse words falling from his perfect, sinful lips. 

His back muscles are flexing, soaked and Louis’ eyes are scanning his body. He’s watching the way he disappears into Harry, a bright pink around his cock so enticing, he could come by just watching the way he, his baby, moves underneath him. He removes a hand from Harry’s hair, pumping him instead, adding into his already intense pleasure. He’s sure the neighbors are covering their faces with their pillows by now, but he couldn’t care less, when Harry’s loud it means he loves it. 

An orgasm is the intense build in the pit of your stomach, with all the pressure being pulled drastically from the tips of your fingers all the way to your core. It’s an impossible heat and every nerve in your body vibrating with a fierce tension, standing on end. Your mind disconnects and you’re letting your body do what comes natural, working for that heavenly release. It makes your hips buck, your legs tighten, your heart race and your head go blurry. The blood rushes in waves, eyes rolling, mouth fallen agape with countless breaths and muffled words. Louis is pushing Harry through it, watching the phases take over his body and melding his movements to match. He’s watching the sheen layer of sweat build onto Harry’s forehead, his bangs sticking to the skin, his lashes fluttering wildly as his back arches more, his knees pressing deeper into the cushions. He comes with a valiant moan and a clenched fist. Hot, sticky liquid comes out in spurts, covering Louis’ hand and dripping down his wrist and arm. 

It only takes the mere sight of Harry losing it to make Louis finish, pulling out in time for his own release to be shot onto Harry’s ass and thighs. Harry flips over, legs still spread, and watches as Louis licks the mess from around his fingers, in awe and he’s completely fucked out.

Harry’s all sloppy smiles and heavy eyelids. He looks at Louis like he’s a god, and it makes Louis’ heart leap, almost out of his chest. “I look forward to this day every year, you make it better and better.”

“Yeah, that’s what I try for.” 

“The sex is always good, Louis. Amazing, really. But I think what makes it better is that the year before, I tell myself I can’t love you more than I already do. I’m always wrong. It gets better because I fall for you even harder, didn’t think it was possible.” 

Louis brings his thumb to Harry’s cheek, wiping away the remnant sweat with a gentle swipe, “You can love me, but I’ll always love you more.” 

“Lies.” Harry laughs, and the sound is so beautiful it makes Louis’ skin raise in bumps, hair standing on end. Every touch now is soft, with their tender bodies not able to handle much more. It’s a few minutes of even breathing and running the tips of fingers over drenched and sticky skin. Little moments like these are what make up Louis’ favorite memories, both of them raw and free to gingerly study each other’s features. 

And Harry showcases all the innocence of his youth, with wide eyes that see things in a brighter light, always finding the best in the worst of things. He’s the boy that captured Louis’ heart all those years ago, and even now it’s still tightly locked away. Honestly, without Harry, Louis doesn’t need it anyway. It’s his, and like he said earlier, he has given himself to Harry. He only hopes that Harry keeps it safe. 

“Baby,” Louis’ voice is a light whisper, just loud enough to barely hear. He presses his lips to Harry’s forehead, then to his cheek, finally resting his nose against Harry’s, an unbreakable stare, “Happy birthday, my love.”


End file.
